


Love is a Fickle and Confusing Thing

by Alecks_Lee



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jealousy, M/M, Murder, Stan's a bit of a bastard but in a loving way, Stanley Uris Lives, Violence, Yandere!Richie, disjointed thoughts, everyone is fucked up here, it could be worse and more graphic but this fic is violent js, no beta we die like men, theres One handjob in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:41:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25976881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alecks_Lee/pseuds/Alecks_Lee
Summary: Richie loves Eddie so much it hurts sometimes. But not him. It doesn't hurt him. And it can't hurt Eddie. Richie won't let it.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 11
Kudos: 40





	Love is a Fickle and Confusing Thing

**Author's Note:**

> i lov y'all here's something i wrote to take a break from my 11k word fic 
> 
> this took a turn i wasn't expecting near the end  
> explicit to be safe even though i think it's only mature.

Richie loves Eddie.

Just like he breathes air he loves Eddie.  
He carves their initials into the kissing bridge because he loves him so much.

But Eddie doesn't know he loves him.  
He can't know.  
Because their love isn't allowed.  
Not in Derry.  
But that's ok because Richie loves him anyway.

Which is why he has his hands around Sonia Kaspbrak’s neck.  
She was going to have Eddie leave Derry.  
But Richie loves him.  
He can't let that happen. He _won’t_ let it happen.  
And Sonia has done nothing but hurt Eddie all his life  
Hurt him by tricking him into believing he was sick.  
Hurt him by telling him its _wrong_ for him to like boys.  
But Richie knows better, his mom told him so, and this is the only way Richie can save Eddie.

It’s difficult, he’s gangly and awkward and Mrs. K's neck is thick, but he knows it’ll be worth it. It _is_ worth it. 

Her eyes bulge and he wonders if they’ll pop out.  
He hopes not, that would be gross.  
She’s turning blue now, his full weight on her lap as he strangles her in her favorite chair. Parked in front of the television like she always is.

And she’s clawing at his arms, leaving long angry red scratches with her harpy like talons, gurgling and wheezing under his fingers. 

Richie is doing this for love.  
Eddie will understand when he wakes up.  
He’ll understand why Richie drugged him and had him fall asleep in bed, surrounded by boxes packed and waiting for the moving van that arrives tomorrow.  
Eddie will understand.  
Because Richie loves him. 

But not like Sonia loved him.  
Sonia’s love was too much, too heavy, too suffocating, too possessive.  
Richie’s love is different. His isn’t the same. It’s not heavy or oppressive or possessive. Because Richie doesn’t want to possess Eddie as his own.  
Eddie’s already his. 

When her neck finally cracks, the pressure from his hands popping her windpipe under his fingers, he smiles, eyes bright in the darkness of the living room, the tv playing with a laugh track behind him. 

_“You did it Richie. Now Eddie's yours.”_ The TV tells him.  
And it’s true.  
Because Eddie can’t leave now.  
Eddie is his. 

-x-

Eddie leaves the next day. 

“Now that my mom’s dead I don't have to stay here.” He tells Richie as he climbs into a cab, life savings in his pocket and all his belongings in his bag. 

“But _I’m_ here, Eds.” Richie pleads and Eddie smiles, sad and comforting even as it hurts Richie. 

“We never were going to be together forever, Richie.” And then he leaves with a parting kiss on Richie’s cheek that burns even hours later.

 _“Follow him Richie. Follow Eddie to the ends of the Earth. He’s yours.”_ His radio tells him.  
But he doesn't.  
He cries instead, pocket knife digging into the wood of his bedpost as he carves their initials over and over until there are splinters littering the floor and mattress around him.  
And then he sleeps. 

-x-

Twenty-seven years of memories are suddenly irrelevant to Richie Tozier. When he gets the call he flies to New York after looking Eddie up. 

He rents a car. It’s unassuming and boring; a car that blends in with everything around him. 

And he sees Eddie leave his home. His wife follows after him, yelling about how he can't “just leave” and Richie’s knuckles go white on the steering wheel. 

How _dare_ she talk to him like that. But Eddie doesn’t slow his stride. He gets into his car and drives off before she's even at the passenger door. And then he makes his move. It’s dusk now, people are out and about, but he’s inconspicuous enough in his hat and dark hoodie. 

He moves easily into their home, it's so easy breaking into places. Second nature when it comes to Eddie. Just like everything else. 

Because Richie still loves him.  
Always has.  
Even when he forgot his name.  
Even when he ignored advances from other people.  
Even when people heckled him for being gay or single.  
Richie knew he was in love and no one else mattered but Eddie. 

Just like now. His wife's raised voice is background noise. She’s yelling at him but all he can see is the pictures of them--no not _them,_ of _her_ on their walls, their shelves. 

Eddie, when visible, is miserable and unhappy and Richie feels his blood boil. 

“You’re just like her.” He says. His tone is dark, he doesn’t think it’s _his_ voice that escapes him, but it makes her stop her tangent and that's all he needs. 

His hands are around her throat and it’s so _easy_ , so _familiar_ and Richie can’t even feel bad for her when she crashes hard into the counter.

Dishes crash to the ground and he revels in the sound, the shattering plates are sharp against his ears, bringing clarity to the situation.

She fights harder than Sonia did. Her claws leave red scratches that bleed, but he doesn't mind.  
Because this is for Eddie. It’s all for Eddie. It’s always been for Eddie. 

When she’s dead on the floor, eyes rolled back in her skull and face purple from lack of oxygen, he cleans her nails.  
Makes sure there’s no way to prove it was him.  
Because he just got Eddie back.  
He can’t lose him again.

 _“Go home, Richie. Follow Eddie back to Derry. Where you belong. You both belong.”_ A Voice tells him from the radio in his rental car as soon as he closes the door and he nods. 

“Yeah. I’m coming home, Eds.” And he smiles to himself as he starts his drive to the airport. 

-x-

Reconnecting in the Jade is a lot. Richie loves and hates it.  
He jokes, like he always did, but he sees the way Eddie looks at Ben and his jaw clenches. 

Stan doesn’t miss it. Never has missed Richie’s warning signs. Stan knew who it was who killed Sonia Kaspbrak when they were teenagers. Richie didn’t have to tell him. Stan has always known just how much he loves Eddie.

Richie is grateful for Stan, so understanding in how he shows his love even if the others wouldn’t understand. And just like then, just like at the bridge when he was caught gouging the wood into shards, he says nothing when he sees Richie get fidgety in his seat. Choosing instead to let himself sit comfortably between his wife and Eddie. Choosing to let Richie stew with the thoughts that are trying to consume him. 

It’s not Stan’s business. And Richie is so grateful for him. 

He wants to tell them. Tell them what he did and how he feels but he worries because they won’t understand. 

They never would understand. Not Bill or Ben, with their idealistic beliefs in love. Not Mike who hasn’t been interested in anything but destroying It. And certainly not Bev who feels suffocated by men showing affection in their horrible ways. 

But Richie isn’t like _them._ He does this for love. It isn’t for his benefit. He didn’t kill two women for his own comfort. It was for Eddie.

It was _always_ for Eddie.  
Because Richie _loves_ him.  
And he would never hurt Eddie like those men have hurt Bev in the past.  
He needs Eddie safe so Eddie can love him back. 

He plays with his pocket knife under the table, unaware that he’s carving their initials into the underside until he feels chunks of wood in his lap. Big pieces of it, signifying that he has gouged deep lines into the table, just out of sight but oh-so-obvious to people if they just _looked._

“You okay, Richie?” Eddie asks when he’s been silent for too long, and Richie smiles, easy and relaxed. 

“I’m fine, Eddie.” And he _is_ because Eddie is here and smiling at him now.

Richie loves Eddie so much. 

-x-

It's when they’re at the Quarry afterwards, all scarred and messy but alive, that Richie decides to tell him. 

They’re away from the others. In the water, like when they were kids, Eddie trying to dunk him again, trying to get him under the water and soaked through again. Richie grabs at his wrists and Eddie freezes, looking vulnerable and apprehensive all at once. 

“I killed for you, Eddie,” It’s not what he wanted to say and Eddie says nothing. One of his hands gently touches the wound on Eddie’s face as he continues, “and I don’t just mean Henry.”

“Richie,” His tone is almost a warning, like he doesn’t want to hear whatever is coming, but Richie has to tell him. He has to tell him exactly what he means to him. 

“I killed your mom.” He whispers it and Eddie actually looks afraid when he tells him, “I killed her for you Eddie, so you’d stay in Derry with me. But you didn’t.”

“But that’s okay!” He reassures him quickly, catching the panic that is brewing beneath Eddie’s skin, Eddie doesn’t have to be afraid of him, “Because I love you. I have since we were 13.” 

“Rich--”

“And I killed your wife too,” He whispers this even more softly, grabbing Eddie’s chin in his hand, grip firm, to force eye contact, “Because I love you.”

“I love you so much, Eddie.” He whispers it like a prayer, like if he says it it’ll break the moment, but for once in his life, that Voice that has told him Eddie is his, is silent and he wants to take this opportunity to confess before the Voice returns. 

Eddie’s eyes are dark, but he doesn’t look scared, thoughtful maybe, but not frightened.

Richie inhales sharply when he feels a hand on his stomach under the water.

“You killed Myra?” Eddie asks, so softly, and Richie nods, releasing Eddie’s other wrist to hold his face in both of his hands.

“I killed her for you, Eds. She couldn’t have you.” Richie sees Eddie start to smirk, a dark expression on his face, but it’s not unwelcome, “Couldn’t love you. Not like I do.” 

“And my mother?” Richie swallows audibly as Eddie’s hand snakes into his pants, touching his soft cock and causing him to shiver as the warmth of his hand counters the cold water. 

“Y-yeah.” Richie stutters, hips jerking forward as Eddie grips his cock in his hand. He slides closer to Richie, mouth against his ear when he speaks again.

“I always knew it was you who killed her.” He bites at Richie’s ear gently, the feel of his teeth against his skin has Richie shuddering and shaking under his touch, hands sliding down to Eddie’s throat and resting lightly, gently, on either side. He can feel his pulse, steady and warm, under his palms. 

“Tell me how you did it, Richie.” He whispers, voice heavy and deep, “Tell me how you killed her while I slept upstairs.”

“I--”

“Tell me how you choked the life out of her, like she tried to do to me.” Eddie’s hand hasn’t stopped stroking his cock and Richie barely holds back a whine, “I saw the scratches on your arms, Richie. I knew. I knew it was you. But I was afraid.” 

“Of me?” Richie chokes out, hands putting just a little pressure on Eddie’s throat, getting a thrill as he feels his pulse jump under his fingers. It would be so easy to kill him. Tighten his grip on his throat and choke him like he did to his mother and his wife. But Richie wouldn’t do that. Couldn’t do that. 

Richie loves Eddie too much to hurt him. He just wants him safe. 

“No, Richie.” Eddie whispers, his voice low and then he’s crowding into Richie’s space and Richie can feel his cock on his thigh and he gasps out a soft moan, “Of _loving_ you.” 

And then they’re kissing, Eddie’s left hand tangling in Richie’s hair and Richie feels like he can't breathe, surrounded by Eddie. Eddie’s touch. Eddie’s taste. Eddie’s smell. Eddie’s sound. Eddie. Eddie. _Eddie._

He doesn’t realize he’s gasping his name like a mantra until Eddie shushes him gently. 

“It’s alright, Richie,” He’s back at his ear, whispering so the others can’t hear, “I know you love me. Stan told me about the bridge.”

“Stan’s a bastard.” Richie bites out, anger flaring in his gut along with the pleasure building there.

“He is.” Eddie agrees and then he huffs out a soft laugh, “But, I love you, too.” And then he’s grabbing Richie’s wrist and sliding it against his stomach, under the shirt so Richie can feel his skin under the water, cool to the touch from the liquid surrounding them.

“I’ve always loved you, too.” He whispers as Richie’s fingers trail along the scarring by his navel. Self inflicted and deep. Like he’s spent nights doing it to remind himself of what it means. Like he’s trying to carve it into his organs and bones. 

**_R + E_ **

Richie groans as he comes across Eddie’s hand under the water, and then he huffs out a growl against Eddie’s lips, hand sliding into his hair and yanking hard to tilt his neck back and making Eddie bite out a desperate sound. 

“Don’t do it again, Eds.” Richie snarls, voice deep and dark, “You’re mine. You can’t get hurt. You’re not allowed to get hurt.” 

“Of course, Richie. Anything for you.” He gasps and Richie smiles against his throat, even as the others finally take notice of them and a wolf whistle echoes around them in the Quarry. 

Richie grins against Eddie’s throat.  
If only they knew how much Richie loves Eddie.  
But they don’t need to know.  
Eddie knows how much Richie loves him.

And even better, Eddie loves him back just as much.


End file.
